


What dreams may come

by ang3lsh1



Category: The Sandman (Comics), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dubious Consent, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:12:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lsh1/pseuds/ang3lsh1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Charles is Death and Erik is Dream and it's really just a poor excuse for porn. For Synekdokee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What dreams may come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Synekdokee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synekdokee/gifts).



> Beta'd by **kageillusionz**.
> 
> A long, long, long time ago **Synekdokee** prompted about having Death!Charles and Dream!Erik. I'm sorry this took me like forever and a day. But it is here! Finally! 
> 
> -sobs- I hope you'll enjoy it.

Every century, Death will live as a mortal for a day. Today is no exception. What better way to understand the frailty of those whom he sends off.

***

He’s crushing the velvet cloak in this hands, surprisingly cool against his back as he arches off it again while his lover slowly noses down his navel, blowing gently at the sparse curls that start lightly, before darkening and growing thicker down towards his groin. He passes by Charles’ stirring cock and travels lower before nosing at his perineum, placing a sloppy kiss, before moving further down towards his hole.

Charles is dreaming. He knows this by the feel of the cloth, lying on a maroon cloak the colour of dusk before it turns to full night. If he tilts his head to the left, he knows he can see the evening star on the edge of the cloth. But Charles is distracted by the hands holding his hips down as his lover noses gently at his navel before trailing down the thatch of hair to where his cock stirs. Charles bites down on a moan as he mouths at Charles’ cock.

‘Shhh...’ He admonishes Charles as one hand moves to pry gently at his bitten, red lips. ‘I want to hear you, liebling.’

He continues on with a hot, wet tongue that licks broad swipes over the head of his cock before dipping in to lap at the slit. Charles tries to buck up, to get his cock into that mouth, but the hands that holds him down is firm and Charles is only able to writhe and whimper at the sensations until finally, finally, his cock is swallowed and he can feel himself nudging the back of his lover's throat.

He takes a few moments to adjust, his breath tickling against Charles dark curls. The only warning Charles gets is a tightening of fingers on his hips before he starts moving. Drawing back up before sliding back down, over and over again as though he just wants to eat Charles whole.

Charles doesn’t even bother to try and stop the cries falling from his lips, he can feel himself tipping over the edge as Erik swallows down one last time and hums and Charles is coming so hard.

That he’s literally wrenched from his dream into the waking world and the growing wet spot on his bed.

Cursing, Charles springs out of bed tossing the covers aside. Hazy memories of eyes like the sea in storm and a shark-like grin fades into the morning as he scrambles to change the sheets.

Grumbling at the added chores, Charles strips the bed and goes about the day.There is comfort in the mundane as he starts the coffee and has his toast while the news fills the silence in the apartment. The weather person is chirping that it is a lovely sunny day with highs of 20°C and lows 12°C and that you all should get outside and enjoy it. 

That is uneventful in itself, the sun is out and he prepares lunch, before heading out to the park to play with a rottweiler. There is comfort and a quiet joy in simple everyday things.

As sleep claims Charles, this time he’s on his knees and his hands are tangled in the same starspun cloak in front of him. One hand is tangled in his hair while the other guides the head of his cock to Charles’ bottom lip. He’s hard already and slowly traces the lines of Charles red, red lips.

‘Open up,’ he asks and Charles obliges, and lets his tongue lick the head of his cock as his eyes slide shut. The hand in hair tightens slightly, ‘No, liebling. I want to watch you watch me. Now open those pretty blue eyes of yours.’

Charles flicks his eyes up, meeting cloudy grey eyes as he mouths over the head of his cock taking care to lap at the frenulum.

Just before Charles can do something about himself, he wakes up and removes the coins from his eyes. There is a large silver ankh dangling in front of him before his raises his eyes to see Death looming over him with familiar blue eyes.

‘How was it this time?’ he asks.

‘Lovely as usual. There was a party of sorts in the park and dancing. It felt very much like Fiddler’s Green of old. I got to play with a lovely old rottweiler named Gabriel, and I found myself some Granny Smith apples. Except the last bit. You really should tell him off for me this time. It’s not fair that he gets his bit of fun and leaves me wanting.’ The last bit is said with a pout. 

Death laughs ‘I promise you I’ll do that and more. I’m a tad miffed by that myself,’ as he offers Charles his hand, who takes it and fades back into the mist.

A wave of his hand brings forth seven full length mirrors, each framed differently. Death stands before the third mirror - wreathed in old gold, its frame as ornate as the person it represents - and gazes at his reflection, adjusting the ankh around his neck and tugging down on the black vest, smoothing over this jeans. After careful consideration he decides to don a black blazer before stepping forward into the mirror. After all it isn’t polite to appear under dressed when visiting the Lord of Dreams in their realm, even if you are related.


End file.
